
0D01E47E10'=i* 



NOTHING TO DO 






§ 



r--%'il:,«:VS.l^ 




J^OTHING TO DO: 



A TILT AT OUR BEST SOCIETY. 



To do nothing is to be a great part of your title. 

Shakspeare. 




//r^^^.. ^'rx^*>^ 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY JAMES FRENCH & CO. 

n 18 57. 



'7) 



PS i^^r 

ns-7 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by 

JAMES FRENCH & CO., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



BTEREOTTPED BY 

HOBART & ROBBINB, 

New England Type and Stereotype Foundery, 

BOSTON. 



WILLIAM A. BUTLER, Esq. 

AUTHOR OP 

'^NOTHING TO WEAR," 

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. 



PS 10^1 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by 

JAMES FRENCH & CO., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



STEEEOTTPEB BY 
HOBART & ROBBINS, 

New England Type and Stereotype Foundery, 
BOSTON. 



WILLIAM A. BUTLER, Esq., 

AUTHOR OF 

^'NOTHING TO WEAR," 

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. 



Nothing to Do 



Augustus Fitz-Herbeut, as all are aware, 
Having crossed the Atlantic, and got a 
moustaclie on. 
Likewise being son of a known millionaire. 
Stands of course on the very top round 
of the fashion. 
Being taught to consider himself, from his 

birth, 
As one of the privileged ones of the earth, 
He cherishes deep and befitting disdain 



6 NOTIIINGTODO. 

For those who don't live in the Fifth 
Avenue, 
As entirely unworthy the notice or thought 
Of the heir of two millions and nothing 
to do. 
He calls them canaille, which I'm credibly 
told 
Is the only French word which he caught 
when away ; 
And though, in my case, if I might be so 
bold, 
I should say it scarce paid one for half 
a year's stay, 
The heir of two millions and nothing to do, 



Nothing to Do. 7 

Who lives in a palace in Fifth Avenue, 
As a matter of course, is no fitting com- 
parison 
For the heir of an inkstand and something 
to do. 
Who lodges up stairs, in the house of 
Miss Harrison. 



In this model republic, this land of the 
free — 

So our orators call it, and why should not 
we ? — 

'Tis refreshing to know that without pedi- 
gree 



8 Nothing to Do. 

A man may still climb to the top of the 

tree ; 
That questions of family, rank, and high 

birth, 
All bow to the query. How much is he 

worth ? 
That John Smith, plebeian, who forty years 

since 
Walked Broadway barefooted, now rides as 

a prince ; 
Having managed, though not overburdened 

with wit. 
But rather by chance and a fortunate hit. 
To take a high place on Society's rounds ; 



Nothing to D o. 9 

His claims being based on pence, shillings, 
and pounds. 

I admit there 's a certain republican merit 

In making the fortune which others inherit ; 

But why should John Smith so completely 
ignore 

The bridge which has brought him triumph- 
antly o'er, 

And turn with disgust from the opposite 
shore ? 

And why, when Miranda, whose heart is 
not proof 

Against Cupid's sharp, arrows, some day 
leaves his roof, 



10 NOTHINaTODo. 

And, sundering her family-ties at a jerk, 

Keturns in the evening — the wife of his clerk ! 

Thus at Love's trumpet-call bidding Duty 
defiance, 

Should he strive to break up the clandestine 
alliance ? 

For, though men have made money, and will 
do again. 

There was never a case known where money 
made men ; 

And if Jones be a man in what constitutes 
manhood, 

He 's a far better i^atch than young Fred- 
eric Stanwood, 



Nothing TO Do. ,11 

Though the one be a clerk, and the other 
the heir 

Of the house next M'Flimsey's, on Madi- 
son-square. 

If the one is deficient in wealth, we may find 

The other quite bankrupt in morals and 
mind. 



Excuse this digression, which yet is ger- 

main 
To the subject in hand, as will be very 

plain 
When I say that Fitz -Herbert's respected 

progenitor 



12 NOTHINGTODO. 

Did business years since, as I 'm told, in a 
den eight or 

Ten feet each way, where he daily had 

calls 
From all sorts of people with all sorts of 

things. 
From coats and umbrellas to bracelets 

and rings. 
To be left, until claimed, at the Three 

Golden Balls. 
But now, long emerged from his chrysalis 

state. 
Should his former acquaintances call at his 

gate, 



Nothing to Do. 13 

They would doubtless receive speedy notice 

to leave — 
Not the articles brought, but the dwelling 

instanter. 
With their pace perhaps changed to a very 

quick canter. 



So changes the world, and the men that are 

in it. 
That those whom we hail as our equals, one 

minute, 
We pass by the next with a very cold stare. 
And gruffly inquire who the d — ickens.they 

are. 



14 Nothing TO Do. 

From the past to the present — to close our 

review — 
From the pawnbroker's shop to the Fifth 

Avenue, 
To the parlors so full of ohjets de vertu, 
And furniture most undeniably new, 
Where on tapestry carpets the foot softly 

falls, ^ 

And family portraits look down from the 

walls, 
Of martial old grandsires and stately old 

dames ; 
Which, bought cheap at auction, and set in 

new frames, 



NOTHINGTODo. 15 

And dubbed with high-sounding and fanciful 

names, 
At peace after many of Fortune's muta- 
tions. 
Look impressively down on their new-found 

relations. 
There's Sir Arthur Fitz-Herbert, an old 

English knight. 
Who won his gold spurs in a hardly-fought 

field, 
Where he rescued the life of the gallant 

Black Prince 
By receiving a blow meant for him — on 

his shield ; 
2 



16 NOTHINGTODO. 

Of whicli glorious action, so well worth atten- 
tion, 

Not a single historian makes any mention ; 

Though by family documents amply attested, 

In possession of those who are most inter- 
ested. 

Then there 's Lady Fitz-Herbert — a Queen's 
maid of honor, 

Who spent her chief time in attendance 
upon her ; 

And when the Queen left on a visit to 
Calais, 

Eemained in sole charge of — the plate and 
the palace. 



NoTHiNaToDo. 17 

All which, the Fitz-Herberts may justly lay 

claim. 
Invests with proud honor the family name. 



There is something that puzzles me, let 
me confess — 

Why these rare old antiques wear so mod- 
ern a dress ! 

Unless, like the comet which now reappears, 
' For the first time, I think, within hundreds 
of years. 

So fashions in dress run through regular 
courses, 

And strictly obey the mechanical forces. 



18 Nothing to Do. 

Let me hereby suggest that some almanac- 
maker, 

In his very next issue but one, undertake a 

Brief record of Fashions that may reappear 

In the course of the next or the following 
year. 

With what eager eyes would our wives read, 
be sure, 

About — this — time — expect — a — new — 
style — of — coiffure, 

A black lace Fichu under dark satin loops ; 

Or, more ominous still, a recurrence of hoops ! 

Attended, perhaps, by the brief intimation, 

Based upon strict and exact calculation, 



Nothing to Do. 19 

That the first would enjoy but a limited 

reign, as 
It was looked for next year in far-distant 

Uranus ; 
While the last had intended to visit us sooner, 
But tarried a while with the ladies of Luna. 



Apropos of the portraits — I 've heard of a 
queer 

Contretemps which befell the most famous 

last year; 
I mean of Sir Arthur, who saved the Black 

Prince, — 



20 NOTHINGTODO. 

Excuse my not knowing how many years 

since. 
It seems a young lady — Miss Blanche De- 

larue — 
One day on a visit to Fifth Avenue, 
While carelessly chatting and sipping some 

sherbet, 
Was shown the fine portrait of Arthur Fitz- 

Herbert, 
Which, Augustus assured her, as an heirloom 
Was more valued than anything else in the 

room. 
And proceeded to speak of the well-deserved 
fame 



NoTHiNa TO Do. 21 

Of Sir Arthur Fitz-Herbert, the first of his 

name, 
"With a few of those actions of gallant em- 
prise, 
Which have made him so great in Posterity's 

eyes; 
Or, at least, that small part which, like Miss 

Delarue, 
Are on visiting terms in the Fifth Avenue. 
In the midst of his story conceive his amaze. 
When his visitor, after a long, earnest gaze 
At the portrait before her, approaching, let fall 
On the tapestry carpet plate, sherbet, and 
all. 



22 NOTHINGTODO. 

Which, scattered with fragments of fine por- 
celain, 

Must have suffered, I fear, an indelible stain. 

While standing aghast at a breach of pro- 
priety 

Which rarely occurs in the best of society. 

He was startled still more, as I cannot but 
own. 

When the lady exclaimed, in a deeply-moved 
tone. 

In reply to his feebly-expressed *' Never 
mind it," 

"That's my grandfather's portrait! 0, 
where did you find it?'' 



Nothing to Do. 23 

Which indeed was the case, being sold at 

vendue, 
Some years since, when the father of Blanche 

Delarue 
Had lost for the time both his wealth and 

high station. 
By indulging too largely in land specula- 
tion. 
The iffllucky portrait, I scarcely need say, 
Was at once taken down, but soon after 

replaced 
By another as stately, though somewhat 

defaced, — 
A. clear mark of age, and which, by the 

way. 



24 NoTHiNa TO Do. 

On Fitz -Herbert's assurance I'm glad to 

be able 
To say was a knight of the Famous Eound 

Table. 



If my memory fails not, 'tis three months 

to-day 
Since Augustus Fitz-Herbert appeared in 

Broadway, 
Having passed the last year in a tour beyond 

seas, 
Where his travels extended from Eussia 

to Spain, 



Nothing to Do. 25 

And towards the North- West from the famed 
Hebrides 
To the beautiful isles in the fair Grecian 
main. 
He has wandered through climes of which 
even the names 
Thrill the heart with emotion, or sum- 
mon a tear, 
Wh«ii» we think how completely has time 
swept away 
The traces of all that we fain would 
revere. 
He has stood, it may be, on the very same 
spot 



26 Nothing to Do. 

"Where Homer recited his deathless heroics, 
Or paused at the portico, knowing it not. 
Where Zeno addressed his disciples, the 
Stoics. 
Perchance when he gazed from the brow 
of the hill 
On the once famous harbor — the Attic 

Piraeus, 

Proud trophy of valor reverse could not 
chiU! — 
His foot pressed the turf on the breast 
of Musseus. 
He has seen the proud city whose arts and 
whose arms 



Nothing to Do. 27 

In the mouth of tradition for ages have 

rung; 
0, there is not a foot of that soil but has 

charms, 
Where Tully once fulmined, where Yirgil 

once sung. 
In the streets of Byzantium he 's smoked 

a chibouk 
With the bearded and turbaned devout 

Mameluke ; 
Has seen the Cathedral — the glory of 

Munich — 
And deciphered inscriptions, perhaps^ from 

the Runic ; 



28 Nothing to Do. 

Floated dreamily down the thrice beautiful 

Rhine, 
Through lands that are teeming with olives 

and wine ; 
Passed a night in the capital city of Berne, 
And crossed in a steamer the Lake of 

Lucerne ; 
Has strolled through the fortified town of 

Brussels, 
And heard in old Bruges the sweet Minster 

bells ; 
Has stopped in the siege-renowned city of 

Prague, 
And supped with Mynheer in his town of 

the Hague ; 



Nothing to Do. 29 

At length reaching France, in a steamboat 

crossed over 
The troublesome straits linking Calais with 

Dover ; 
Which gained, up to London he travelled 

post-haste, 
With the prominent thought, there was no 

time to waste. 
With the help of post-horses and frequent 

relays. 
He ''did" the whole island in eight or 

ten days. 
During which he no doubt made a thorough 

survey 



30 Nothing to Do. 

Of all objects of interest passed on the 

way. 
He next made a very brief visit to Cork 

(The city and people he couldn't endure). 
And returning took passage at once to New 
York, 
"With the comforting thought — he had 
made the grand tour. 



From his journal I venture below to record 
A single impression received while abroad: 
''June 7th, we reached Athens — a sizable 
place, 



Nothing to Do. 31 

Some three or four miles from the Gulf 
of ^gina ; 
It contains a cathedral not equal to Grace 
Church in New York, which I think is 
much finer. 
Went up to the top of the famous Acropolis, 
Which is visited" daily by hundreds of 
people. 
But can't say I think that the view from 
the top o' this 
Is equal to that from our Trinity steeple. 
The houses are mostly unsightly and small ; 
In Minerva and Hermes' street noticed a 
few 

a 



32 Nothing to Do. 

Which will do very well, but are nothing 
at all 
Compared with our mansion in Fifth- 
Avenue. 
The piles of old ruins one sees here and 
there 
I consider a perfect disgrace to the town ; 
If they had an efficient and competent 
Mayor, 
Like our Mayor Wood, he would soon 
have them down." 



Nothing TO Do. 33 

Keturned from his tour, lie may daily be 
seen 
Promenading Broadway with a calm air 
of su- 
periority, such as is rightfully worn 
By the heir of two millions and nothing 
to do. 
Observe how he shrinks, with a languid dis- 
dain, 
From a shabby book-keeper with coat 
worse for wear ; 
It would scarce be befitting for fine porce- 
lain 



34 Nothing to Do. 

To come in close contact with common 

delf-ware. 
He inclines, as I think, in regard to the 

masses, 
In a modified form to the views of Agassiz : 
As that Adam the first had another for 

weedin', 
And other such jobs, in the garden of 

Eden ; 
While Eve has a housemaid — the wife of 

the latter. 
Of color uncertain — perhaps a mulatto, 
"Who lives in the kitchen, cooks, washes, 

and starches, 



Nothing to Do. 35 

While Eve in the parlor plays waltzes and 
marches ; 

And that those who perforce bear the bur- 
dens of life 

Date their origin back to this man and his 
wife, 

While from Adam the first are descended 
the few 

Who are blest with long purses and noth- 
ing to do. 

An exceedingly simple and practical way 
Of explaining the present distinction of 
classes. 

Conclusively showing that much finer clay 



36 Nothing to Do. 

Is required for the ricli than the gen- 
eral masses. 



Augustus last week at the Potiphars' party 

Met Flora M'Flimsey, of Madison-square, 

Who having found out from her friend 

Miss Astarte 

That he — a great catch — it was thought 

would be there, 

Although in a state of extreme destitution 

In regard to apparel befitting to wear, 
With her usual promptness and firm reso- 
lution 



NOTHINGTODo. 37 

Represented the case to her hard-hearted 
pere ; 
Who firmly resisted her touching entreaties. 
Until she was forced, in her utter despair, 
To remind him she never could hope to be 
married. 
Unless he provided her something to 
wear. 
A state of the case so extremely appalling, 
And fraught with such numberless bills 
of expense 
To be run up hereafter, that, trouble fore- 
stalling. 
He yielded at once, without further defence. 



38 NoTHiNaToDo. 

At the same time he said she was perfectly 
free 
To place herself under a husband's pro- 
tection ; 
And, hard as the sacrifice doubtless must be, 
Provided she made a befitting parti. 

That he, as her father, would make no 
objection. 



Her purpose achieved, on the very same day 
Miss Flora went out on a tour of in- 
spection 
To all of the principal shops in Broadway, 



NOTIIINGTODO. 39 

Where at length she succeeded in making 
election 
Of a gossamer fabric of delicate texture, 

Whose merit consisted in being so rare, 
That one, though attired in it twice or thrice 
folded, 
Might almost be said to have nothing to 
wear. 
At the party which followed (I speak with 
due diffidence). 
Of all that were present not one could 
compare, 
In point of dry goods and surpassing mag- 
nificence. 



40 NOTHINGTODo. 

With Flora M'Flimsey, of Madison-square. 
She came, saw, and conquered. Her eyes' 
brilliant lustre — 
Or that of her diamonds — effected the coup 
Which brought to her feet — not the great 
Filibuster, 
But the heir of two millions and nothing 
to do. 
The marriage, I hear, is deferred for the 
present — 
The bride requires three months at least 
to prepare. 
On the first of Noyember, should weather 
prove pleasant, 



NOTHINGTODO. 41 

There will be a grand wedding at Madison- 
square. 
The alliance I hold to be every way proper, 
Since Flora M'Flimsey, in wedding the heir 
Of two millions in prospect (not bating a 
copper), 
May hope to have something, in future, to 
wear. 
While Augustus Fitz-Herbert, Sir Arthur's 
descendant. 
In paying her bills for dry goods and 
bijoux, 
With all the etceteras thereto attendant, 
Will find quite as much as he wishes to do. 



42 NoTHiNaToDo. 

0, ye who in life are content to be drones, 
And stand idly by while your fellows bear 

stones 
To rear the great temple which Adam began, 
Whereof the All-Father has given each 

man 
A part in the building — pray look the world 

through, 
And say, if you can, you have nothing 

to do! 
Were man sent here solely to eat, drink, 

and sleep. 
And sow only that which himself hoped to 

reap, — 



NOTHINGTODO. 43 

If, provided his toil served to gain his sub- 
sistence. 

He had answered in full the v^hole end of 
existence, — 

Where then would be poets, philanthropists, 
sages. 

Who have written their names high on His- 
tory's pages? 

They stood not aloof from the battle of Life, 

But, placing themselves in the van of the strife, 

Marching manfully forward with banner un- 
furled, 

Left their deeds and their names a bequest 
to the world. 



44 NOTHINGTODo. 

Have you ever (forgive me the bold impro- 
priety) 
Keckoned up your outstanding account with 

society, 
Or considered how far, should your life 

close to-morrow, 
You would merit her real and genuine 

sorrow ? 
If, in dying, the world be no wiser or 

better 
For your having lived there, then you are 

her debtor ; 
And if, as Faith, Eeason, and Scripture, all 

show, 



NOTHINGTODo. 45 

God rewards us in heaven for the good done 

below, 
I pray you take heed, idle worldling, lest 

you 
With that better world should have nothing 

to do! 



Ml 



